Trapped in a Three hour Creative Writing Class
by Have Socks. Will Travel
Summary: Tohru and the gang are trapped in their creative writing class for three hours. Their teacher gives them an task to do. Sounds easy, right? Well, it's not as easy as they all would have expected.
1. Tohru

**Guess what class I had the idea for this story in! You guessed it! Creative Writing class!! Yah!! I grant 1 million nothings to the person who guessed that. Congrats.**

**Oh, BTW, you read poetry according to punctuation. Read her poem just like you would read a story, pausing and commas and stopping at periods. In the rhyming poems, only pause at the end of the line if there is a comma or a period.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Furuba, princesscupcakes, OR Ms. Johnson (my creative writing teacher…)**

**Oo0oO**

Tohru sighed and leaned back in her seat. Finally the short story assignment that she had been given was complete. She smiled down at the finished work which was lying innocently on the top of her desk. But it was anything but innocent. It was the cause of so many sleepless nights, and so much worry. All that paid off for a full four pages of Tohru's sweat and blood.

Tohru loved her Creative Writing class, don't get me wrong. But she was very glad it was almost over. She was tired of waiting for others to finish their work. She had typed it last night on Shigure's computer. And now it was complete, a day early. She had forgotten that the due date had been changed.

The school bell belched out its tones to signify the end of Creative Writing. She stood up and gathered her bag and writing utensils. She was the only one. As she looked around the room everyone else was continuing to write on their stories, scratching out a paragraph here, adding a sentence there. Commas, periods, and apostrophes scattered their pages in different colored ink.

Their teacher, Ms. Johnson, looked up from her newspaper at the sound of Tohru's backpack falling off her desk.

"Miss Honda?" Ms. Johnson asked, cocking her head to the side. "Where do you think you're headed too?"

Tohru looked around the classroom. All heads where turned to her, pencils still in hand. Tohru was confused.

"Um, Ms. Johnson," Tohru wrinkled her eyebrows. "The bell just rang. Don't we have to go to…" her voice petered out as she looked at the glances she was getting from her fellow Creative Write-ies.

Ms. Johnson smiled and asked Tohru a simple question. "Tohru, what were you doing during the announcements?"

Tohru thought back on that morning. She had been doing, what else, reading over her short story. She hadn't even noticed the announcements beep on and thus, didn't hear the announcements. She cringed then gave Ms. Johnson an embarrassed smile.

"Sorry Ma'am. I wasn't listening. I was, um, reading my story. Spell checking it if you would. I didn't hear the announcements… what did they say?"

Ms. Johnson smiled and gestured for Tohru to sit down. She did so.

"Class! Every one!! Put your stuff away!! You can do that later! And while you're at it take out a sheet of paper and a pencil."

The class groaned. Tohru looked around confused. Here she was, sitting in her seat in her creative writing class when she should be skipping down the hall to her next class, Literature.

Ms. Johnson walked up to the front of the classroom, her desk being in the back, with a black plastic, Halloween cauldron. She shook it and they heard a rustle of paper.

"miss Honda, to answer your question, the announcements, aside from their usual chattering, stated that today, during first hour, there was going to be play practice. Thus, Miss Honda, this hour will be an extra period long. (**A/N: we are going by my school schedule…) **So, instead of an hour and a half of my class, you will have three hours. **(A/N: Urg. This happened to me on Monday. Only I was stuck in Gym for three hours. crinkles nose)**"

The class stared up at her, giving the "Duh!" looks to anyone around them. They also all wondered why she had the plastic cauldron. For all they remembered, Halloween was ages away.

"So. Since you aren't really supposed to be in this class right now, I am going to have you do a different assignment, rather than the one that you were just doing. Ya'll understand?"

The class bobbed their heads in unison. Although they all wanted to work on their short stories, Ms. Johnson's "different" assignments were always changeling but in a good way.

"Good." Ms. Johnson smiled. "So, your assignment. I will come around the room and you will stick your hand into my plastic-y pumpkin of death and choose your poison."

She must have noticed that Tohru looked worried. "Don't worry Miss Honda, all you are doing is choosing a subject for you to write about. They're all emotions." She turned from Tohru and addressed the class as a whole.

"So. As I walk around you take a slip of paper. You can write anything, a rant, a poem, a short story" –class groans- "a long story, a song, anything. Only there are two catches, number one, you have to finish it in forty-five minutes. That gives us forty-five minutes to present and discuss. The second catch is this: you can't name your work the name of your subject. You have to use the name of your emotion in your piece. For example. If I got, um, let's say, happiness. Well you would write a piece about it, give it a name that isn't happiness, then you have to use the word 'happiness' in your piece of writing. Everyone got that?"

When the class nodded their heads, Ms. Johnson held out the cauldron to Tohru. Tohru took a slip of paper, feeling slightly disappointed. Usually Ms. Johnson's "different" assignments were much harder than this. Then she looked at her paper.

_"Loneliness?" _Tohru thought. _"How am I supposed to do loneliness? How do you write anything about loneliness?"_

She looked around the room. Ms. Johnson was on the second row. No one had started. It was a classroom rule not to start until all papers were passed out.

Tohru tracked Ms. Johnson's progress with her eyes. She watched the reactions of her classmates as they read their paper. Some smiled while others frowned. By far the best reaction was Kyo's. He took one look at his paper and let out a loud "WHA!!" accompanied with his paper being ripped and then thrown up in the air. Ms. Johnson gave him "the look" and he shut up.

When Ms. Johnson was done she went to the front of the classroom and set the timer.

"Forty-five minutes starting…now." On "now" she pressed the square button on the front to start the timer. Then she slowly made her way to Kyo.

Tohru watched Ms. Johnson talk with Kyo. It seemed that he was having as hard of a time with his emotion as she was with hers. Ms. Johnson and Kyo bantered back and forth for about ten minutes in quiet voices, Tohru watching on the whole while.

When Ms. Johnson stood up and walked back to her desk, it brought Tohru back into reality. She looked at the timer and silently shrieked. She only had twenty minutes. TWENTY!!!

"_Oh no. Oh no. I can't do it," Tohru hyperventilated. "I can't write a poem in twenty minutes. It's impossible. Especially when you don't know what to write!! Oh no!!"_

Tohru looked around the classroom at her classmates. Kyo was chewing on the tip of his pencil, his eyebrows pushed into his hairline. Hana was furiously scribbling on her sheet of paper. Arisa's head was down. She appeared to be asleep. Next to her was her paper covered in small dark squiggles that was her piece of writing. Her pencil was in her hand. Yuki was staring off into space apparently counting the ceiling tiles. Kyo's friend, Sana was biting her thumb, her usual smile gone. **(A/N: Sana is one of my many characters that I made up. For information on her, go to my profile or read my story "Kyo's new obsession.") **

Tohru glanced at the clock. She almost choked. Fifteen minutes.

"_Ok. I have to calm down. I just need some inspiration." _Tohru took a deep breath then exhaled. "_What was it mom always used to say? 'Inspiration comes from unexpected places. Pay attention. It'll surprise you were you'll get an idea.' Now all I need is inspiration."_

Tohru tapped her pencil on her desk. _"Come on! Let mom's words come true! I need inspiration. Loneliness… Wait. Mom."_

In her mind Tohru saw a flash of lightning and, for a single second, a lone swing flapping in the wind. Tohru sniffed and took a deep breath. She had her inspiration.

As she wrote Tohru beat herself up for being so dumb. How could she have not realized it? Only this morning she had woken up in a cold sweat, tears running down her face at the mere memory of it.

She finished in the nick of time. She was panicking about proof reading her poem when the timer rang and Ms. Johnson called on her to read first.

Tohru walked over to the stool and perched herself on the edge. Ms. Johnson nodded at her to tell her to begin.

Tohru took a deep breath and began.

"Okay. First of all, I'm sorry if I make any mistakes. This one was hard for me. And um." She sniffed. "I didn't have time to make any changes cuz the timer rang right when I finished. So, um, here goes."

Tohru took a deep breath and unfolded the paper she had torn out of her notebook. She began. **(A/N: the poem is in italics. So that means that most of Tohru's little speech is in italics.)**

"This is a free verse poem by the way. Sorry. Here we go.

"_Looking out the window_

_No one would believe it was May._

_Looking out the window was a task in its self._

_The window was fogged from the warm hospital but_

_Outside streaks of rain crowded themselves on the surface._

_It was a day for blankets and a cozy fire._

_"But a solitary figure was alone in the storm._

_Her tears mixed with the rain as she ran through the grime,_

_Mud splashing on her bare legs and skirt._

_Up ahead was her destination:_

_A metal swing set. _

_A single swing flapping in the storms rage,_

_All that was left of the playground of her childhood."_

Tohru shivered and her cheeks turned pale.

"_Somehow the sight made her cry even harder._

_But not for the same reason._

_Loneliness. _

_The loss of a loved one was nothing._

_Nothing to the feeling she felt now._

_Loneliness._

_"She sat down on the wet swing._

_The water that pooled in the bottom of the swing_

_Rose as she sat and ran down her leg,_

_Mixing in with the already streaming rain._

_"Loneliness._

_She was experiencing her first pains of loneliness._

_The sobs racked her small figure,_

_Her only support being her arm intertwined around the cold, wet chain."_

Tohru sniffed and blinked. Her eyes were stinging and she felt hot. She took a deep breath and went on.

_"It was strange really,_

_The cause of her loneliness._

_An inanimate object, a swing._

_"As she sobbed, her hand slipped off_

_The metal chain and she fell to the ground._

_She was in on physical or mental state to care._

_"As she curled up_

_Into as small, vulnerable ball_

_She remembered the words of her dear, _

_That day departed mother._

_"'Tohru._

_Don't worry about loneliness._

_If you're ever lonely,_

_Come to me._

_We'll talk about it and forget it.'_

A single tear made it's way down her pale cheek. Her voice was shaking.

_'A clap of thunder split the sky and a rumble of thunder shook the earth._

_An even greater tremor _

_Ran up the girl's spine as she thought and cried._

_"Mud filled her mouth_

_As she let out and anguished cry."_

Tohru's small body rocked back and forth. She could remember the moment very clearly. Tears were falling fast down her face.

_"During her first feelings of loneliness she was alone._

_And the one person who could help,_

_Was gone._

_Dead."_

Ms. Johnson walked over to Tohru and helped her back to her seat, patting her on the back. Tohru was crying silent tears into her hands.

As she sat she whispered the last line of her poem to herself.

_"And she would never forget it."_

_Oo0oO_

**A/N: So, you like-y? I think I am going to do all of the other Fruits Basket character people too… Tell me if you would read those…**

**I hope it wasn't too cheesy. I'm not very good at the "sad, emotional" thing. I am a happy person in general so I don't usually feel those kinds of emotions. The troubles of the world kinda fly over my head while I skip along in my happy life.**

**The purple-y button wants to be your friend. It has no friends. Will you be it's friend? All it needs is a click with a mouse!!! **


	2. Kyo

**A/N: I decided to do Kyo cuz it seems like everyone wanted me to! So! Here it is. It is another serious one. Only stop at the end of the line of his poem if there is a comma or a period. **

**I hope it's not too cheesy! This one starts off in the same place as Chapter one. So Tohru hasn't given her poem yet. All of these chapters will start off in the same place, right before the bell rings.**

**Oo0oO**

Kyo's day was going along fine. Until Creative Writing. Tohru had talked him into taking the class with her when they were registering for they're classes the year before. It seemed as if everyone they knew was taking the class and Tohru said it would be fun.

_"Fun. Humph. That is so not true." _Kyo thought as he moodily crossed out a paragraph. Now his short story was too short. "_How can you have a short story that is too short!!?" _

Kyo irritably threw his pencil across the room. It hit Sana in the back of the head. She turned around, one delicate eyebrow raised. She picked up his pencil and pointed at it quizzically.

Kyo grimaced and mouthed "sorry."

The bell warbled out its tones. Sana threw him back his pencil and continued to spell check her paper with her purple pen humming a catchy tune under her breath.

Kyo looked back down at his paper. His four page paper was down to three and a half. _"'the kid layed down.__ He did not know what to do with himself.' What kinda crap sentence is that?" _Kyo thought. He scratched out yet another sentence decreasing the length of his paper even more.

Kyo was brought out of his sulking by a welcome distraction. Tohru had dropped her book bag on the ground. Ms. Johnson's head rose above the pile of papers covering her desk.

"Miss Honda?" Ms. Johnson asked. "Where do you think you're headed too?"

"_She didn't listen to the announcement… that's my guess… I'll bet you anything…" _Kyo thought, laughing at Tohru's scatter brained personality. The one that he had grown to love.

Sana flicked his forehead and he looked up. She was standing there; smiling like usual, in her hand was her typed story.

"Hey Kyo-kun!" she hailed cheerily. "You wanna have me read over your story? Ya kinda seem to be having a hard time of it yourself. You can read over mine if you want."

"Nah, it'd just make me depressed. I scratched out like half of my paper on mistakes only. Yours is probably good. Mine sucks." Kyo grumbled. But he switched papers with Sana all the same.

As was expected, it was good. Kyo's pencil lay unused on his desk as he read her story, finding no typos, misspellings, or errors. He should have known. Sana was a near perfectionist.

Suddenly his paper was slapped back on his desk and Sana's was yanked out from underneath his elbow. He looked up to see Sana rush back to her desk with her paper in hand. The rest of the class was grumbling and pulling out a sheet of paper. Kyo, not knowing why, followed suit.

Ms. Johnson seemed to be in the middle of a lecture or a decision. Or, as Kyo continued to listen, in the middle of instructions.

"So. As I walk around you take a slip of paper. You can write anything, a rant, a poem, a short story" –class groans- "a long story, a song, anything. Only there are two catches, number one, you have to finish it in forty-five minutes. That gives us forty-five minutes to present and discuss. The second catch is this: you can't name your work the name of your subject. You have to use the name of your emotion in your piece. For example. If I got, um, let's say, happiness. Well you would write a piece about it, give it a name that isn't happiness, then you have to use the word 'happiness' in your piece of writing. Everyone got that?"

Kyo nodded along with the rest of his class and watched, with every one else as Tohru read her slip of paper. Her face fell and her eyebrows knitted together. Obviously this was going to be harder than it looked.

Now it wasn't that Kyo couldn't write. He was a good writer. Tohru often complimented him on his work and so had Ms. Johnson and the rest of the class. It was the fact that Kyo thought poems were a waste of time. They were too, what else, _poetic_ and hard to understand. Scratch that. He thought that the time everyone spent writing their poems was a waste of time. He would just scrawl one out then slept for the rest of class.

By this time Ms. Johnson had reached Kyo. He lazily plopped his hand in the bucket and took the first piece of paper that his fingers touched.

"_Hopefully it won't be too hard." _Kyo thought as he unfolded his slip of paper. He changed his mind as he read his paper. _"THIS IS GOING TO BE IMPOSSIBLE!!" _He let out a squawk. He ripped his paper into shreds and tossed it in the air, as if celebrating the impossibility of his task.

He quieted down when Ms. Johnson shot "her look" his way. **(A/N: this is a really good slinky! Slinky, slinky, slinky, slinky!)** She soon had made her way around the whole room. She walked up to the over head and set the small white timer.

"Forty-five minutes starting…now." On "now" she pressed the square button on the front to start the timer. Then she slowly made her way to Kyo. Kyo frowned and hurried to look like he was doing something. Ms. Johnson was not fooled.

She squatted down next to his desk. "So what's the story? What happened?" she asked keeping eye contact with Kyo.

Kyo sighed then asked a question. "Can I have a new emotion?"

Ms. Johnson shook her head. "Sorry Kyo. But you know the rules. 'A different challenge gives you a-"

"-challenge for once in your lives' yeah I know. But Ms. Johnson, I can't do this one! This one is way too hard."

"Well, Kyo, I'll work with you. What emotion did you get?"

**(A/N: Slinky, slinky, slinky, slinky, and slinky!!!!!!)**

Kyo blushed. "Love." He simply stated.

**(A/N: slinky, slinky, slinky!!!)**

Ms. Johnson's lip twitched in an effort to keep from smiling. "Is that it? So why is that a problem? Is it to girly for you?"

Kyo blushed and shook his head vigorously. "No. That's not it."

Ms. Johnson gave into her smile and beamed at Kyo. "So what's the problem? Don't have any inspiration?" when she saw Kyo's uneasy glancing around she waved her hand.

"Forget it." Ms. Johnson said. "Here's an idea. What do you think of when you think of love?"

Kyo glanced at Tohru out of the corner of his eye. He blushed when he realized that she was staring at him intensely as if he were the most interesting thing on the planet. He quickly turned his attention back to Ms. Johnson, who hadn't noticed a thing.

"I can't think of a thing." Kyo whispered.

"How about important people in your life. Like, um, parents?" Ms. Johnson took a deep breath when she saw Kyo's face.

Kyo's face had darkened considerably. It was as if the imaginary spotlight that shined on him had a rock thrown at the light bulb. She could feel the hate emanating from him.

"Parents. My parents never loved me." He stated, darkly.

Ms. Johnson, who was a parent herself, shook her head. "I'm sure they love you. Deep down they love you."

Kyo laughed malevolently. "Yeah. The only time my mother loved me was when I was finally out of her life. But then I had to deal with my father. It was no secret that he hated me. He blamed me for killing-" he stopped suddenly.

Ms. Johnson looked at him confused. "Do I want to know?"

Kyo shook his head. "I don't think you want to. But I still need ideas. How is some one who has never felt love supposed to write a freakin' sompthin' about it?! I mean no one loves the awkward teen sitting in the corner!" Kyo raged. He was referring to his position in the corner of the classroom.

"There." Ms. Johnson stated unexpectedly. She grabbed Kyo's pencil and jotted down a few words. She turned his paper right side up and slid it over the desk. She stood up saying, "work with that."

She returned to her desk. Kyo's eyes traveled with her, boring holes of questions into her back.

"_What the heck was that all about?" _Kyo thought to himself as he peered down at his paper. In Ms. Johnson's neat scrawl were the words:

_Love the Awkward Teen Sitting in the Corner._

Kyo's eyebrows rose to his hair. _"How the heck am I supposed to write a piece on _that_?" _

Kyo looked at the timer. He almost groaned but managed to keep quiet. There was twenty minutes.

Kyo rubbed the side of his face. _"Think!" _he willed himself. "_Unless I want to make a complete fool out of myself I have to come up with sompthin'. _Love the awkward Teen sitting in the corner. _That sounds like, I don't know, weird. Um. Hum. What to write…"_

Kyo glanced over at Tohru. She was busily writing her piece. She seemed unaware of a tear working its way down her cheek.

Kyo turned away. It wasn't any help to see someone he loved cry. _"And I am NOT going to write a poem about Tohru. I'd never hear the end of it."_

Kyo was at his wits end. He had ten minutes. He ripped a piece of paper out of his notebook and wrote a three word note.

_Help!!!!_

_Subject- Love_

He tossed this up to Sana. She read it and scrawled a quick note back.

_Use personal experiences. It works._

_Trust me._

**(A/N: did you know if you twist a star shaped slinky it looks like a pinecone?)**

Kyo sighed and sat back in his seat. That was no help. Or was it.

"_Wait…" _Kyo thought as he read his paper._ "Love the awkward teen sitting in the corner. Personal experiences." _The hate of his parents.

Kyo wrote vehemently. (**A/N: Big word!!!) **He still wasn't finished when the timer rang. He didn't expect to finish. He had started when he had five minutes to finish. He quickly wrote as much as he could. He was satisfied.

But oh, it was hard to read. There were verses everywhere, lines scribbled out here, his editing pen the evil green marker of sinking through paper. But he would have to deal with it. He had to listen. Tohru was the first up.

Kyo nearly cried when Tohru started. Tohru had told him this story. And she had to write about it. Ms. Johnson was an evil teacher. Evil, evil and evil. But they all loved her.

When evil Ms. Johnson accompanied a crying Tohru back to her seat, Kyo had to take action. He bounded out of his seat and grabbed the tissue box from the back of the room and rushed it up to Tohru. She took a tissue thankfully and sobbed into it.

Ms. Johnson and Kyo were moved out of the way by Hana and Arisa. They immediately wrapped Tohru in their arms and cooed soothing words in her ears.

Ms. Johnson made her way back to her desk. "Kyo, since you are so far from your seat, and you seem to have your paper, why don't you go next."

Kyo looked down at his hand. Clutched tightly in his balled up fist was his paper, wrinkled beyond repair.

He sighed and made it up to the front of the room.

"I probably won't be able to read it. My editing pen is a killer when it comes to sinking through. And I finished this in like, five minutes. So sorry if it is crap."

Ms. Johnson waved at him, telling him to speed it up.

"Yeah. Ok. Well I kinda wrote this like a song. Here we go."

Kyo struggled to read the first line, there were arrows all over moving stanzas from one place to another. All in all it was a jumbled mess that only Kyo could understand.

"_He wished he had it easy,_

_Wished life wasn't so hard._

_It's like his life stepped into a fire,_

_And now it's black and charred._

"_For those of you who do no know,_

_Exactly what he means._

_It's not exactly easy,_

_Being a poor and angry teen._

Kyo felt weird. He felt exposed. He shouldn't be sharing this. It was too personal. But he continued.

"_A mother's love he wanted,_

_Never had it all his life._

_And his father, what a father,_

_Followed in the footsteps of his wife."_

"_Constant beatings, cruel words._

_Is the memory of this teen._

_He wouldn't wish on anyone,_

_The horrors that he's seen._

"_So love the awkward teen,_

_Sitting in the corner,_

_Save him from his life,_

_His previous life of horror."_

Kyo crouched down. He was three again. His father and mother screaming at him. The chair. It was coming closer, closer. He threw his hands over his head.

"_A mother that he never loved,_

_He saw her that day._

_When she killed herself in front of him._

_The day she took her life away._

"_Couldn't someone show some love,_

_To one who's never had?_

_One who was beat,_

_By his very 'loving' dad._

"_So love the awkward teen,_

_Sitting in the corner._

_Save him from his life,_

_His previous life of horror."_

Down, down, down the chair came, never slowing. It missed his arm and cracked on his head right above his eyebrow. Blood spurted down his face and his skull felt like jello as he slid down the wall. He heard a scream then a siren. He heard lies to authority.

"_Love for him is laughable,_

_Never had a family to care._

_Who would love a monster?_

_He doesn't think life is fair._

"_Couldn't someone love,_

_The miserable, forgotten teen?_

_And save him, save him,_

_From the horrors that he's seen."_

A mother's face was the first he saw. Then a hand. And a sharp pain on the side of his face. Cruel words spurted out of her mouth. How could he have caused them so much worry and pain? And money. Who would have to pay for the hospital bill? Kyo fell asleep to the all too familiar words. The ones he mistook for words of love.

"_So love the awkward teen,_

_Sitting in the corner._

_Save him from his life,_

_His previous life of horror."_

Kyo ran his fingers through his bangs, brushing them back in embarrassment. He quickly stopped when he saw Tohru look at him. He flattened his bangs, but not before she was able to see a large, angry, purple scar.

Oo0oO

**A/N: so, do you like-y? Were you disappointed that he didn't write about Tohru? But think about it. That would be way out of character for him. So I had him write this poem.**

**Was it dumb to have him have a childhood flashback of my creation?**

**I am feeling really insecure about this chapter. Plus it is way past my bedtime. I mean 10:12. That is late. For me anyway. I like to sleep. If I don't get twenty-five hours of sleep I am exhausted.**

**I think I will go get some Frozen OJ as a late night snack. My dad is in Mexico. For all of those who wanted to know…**

**Review! Tell me if it sucked!!**


	3. Arisa

**Hi ya'll! My last chapter was… weird for me. This one will be kinda short. I don't think the rest of them will be as long as the first two chapters.**

**Dedications: I have this thing for dedications… I have decided to dedicate this whole story to ****nalanna****. (Sorry for the dorkus question earlier… hrm…)**

**Oo0oO**

Arisa's head crunched into her desk as she whacked it down, feeling the cold plastic on her aching forehead. She was hungry and not in a good mood. Not to mention tired. It didn't help that this class was going to be an extra hour and a half. She couldn't take much more of it… one more class until lunch. And it had to be this class.

Arisa had not chosen to take this class. Who would…? Poems and stuff were a waste of time. No, it had been Tohru's decision. It was a tradition.

_**Flashback**_

_Tohru beamed at Arisa and Hana who were gathered around the Sohma dinner table. Their schedules for the next year were scattered across the table. Hana picked up the list of class options._

_"Now that Arisa got to pick an elective for all of us, I believe it is my turn. Let us see." She ran her eyes down the list pausing ever so often._

_"Yes." She said in her monotone voice. "It has been decided. We will do it. I could not stand it if we didn't. I think my tender, innocent heart would break in two if we didn't."_

_Kyo, who was walking through, laughed. "Innocent? Who? You? In your dreams." He made a sudden exit as Hana glared daggers his way._

_The girls had a tradition. Each girl got to pick one elective for the whole group. Arisa had picked Chorus. Although she would never admit it, she actually liked to sing. Plus, she kinda had to, she had been in chorus since sixth grade and couldn't quit now._

_"Only Kyo could take away my fantasies" Hana sighed and put her hand on her cheek, eyes closed. "But maybe he is right. Maybe I just would not cut it to take Home Economics. I would blow up the school in my attempts to cook. It is useless to ignore the obvious. I guess we will just have to grit our teeth and try our luck at Computer Applications. The worst that can happen is that I will fry all of the computers in the school, resulting in very high static cling and static electricity from the fried computer waves in the air." Hana concluded with a straight face. She took out Tohru's pink pen and scratched the words "computer applications" on the bottom of her list._

_Tohru and Arisa followed suit. It was Tohru's turn._

_"Um, I was thinking, well you may not want to do this and you don't have to if you don't want to, but maybe we could do," Tohru took a deep breath. "I'm sorry if you don't want to do this and you don't have to if you really don't want to." Tohru went on, cutting herself off._

**(A/N: Frozen Orange Juice!! Yum! It stings my tongue though. Cuz my tongue on hamburger helper and now the Juice is getting all over in my burn. But I will still eat it!! Yum!!)**

_"Tohru, calm down!" Arisa grabbed Tohru's shoulder as Hana __serene__ly __devour__ed the plate of chips in front of her. Arisa smiled at the always smiling Tohru. "What class do you want us to take?"_

_Tohru blushed up at Arisa and her eyes got shiny. "Um, if you and Hana wanted to, could you try the creative writing class with me?"_

_Arisa raised her eyebrows so they seemed to form a thin, fuzzy caterpillar. "Creative Writing huh?" she asked._

_Kyo seemed to have gathered courage to tromp back through the room, and he was just in time to hear the words 'creative writing' being uttered. He laughed._

_"Creative writing huh?" he asked. "You two should deffinatly take it." He pointed to Arisa and Hana. "I hear it's a class for weirdos. Yankees and Psychics defiantly fall under that category." (_**A/N: what? I'm in Creative writing! I can say that!!)**

_Kyo rolled over on the floor after being attacked by Arisa. He clutched the back his head as he sat up. "I was just statin' the truth. No need to beat me up." He stood up._

_Tohru scooted over to where Kyo was standing and beamed up at him. He stopped in his tracks, his head still in his hands._

_Arisa laughed. She knew what was coming next. Plus his blue hoodie clashed terribly with his orange hair and red face. He was standing like an idiot in the middle of the room, clutching his just whipped by a girl head._

_Tohru held up her finger in a matter-of-fact way. "Kyo-kun!" she said, smiling. "You should do creative writing with me! And Hana and Arisa, if they want to." She added hastily, looking over her shoulder at her friends._

_Kyo shook his head, hand in the same place it had been for what seemed like forever. "Are you kidding me? No way. Not ev-" he stopped at the sight of Tohru's face. It was still smiling, but it had a slightly downcast look. His hand finally found a purpose and he began scratching the back of his head._

_Puppy-dog eyes. He couldn't ever say no to them. _**(A/N: Typing in italics is hard…) **_Why, when he really didn't want to take the class, did she have to whip out puppy-dog eyes? He squirmed._

_"Fine, whatever. Can I go now?" he asked. He was pleased to see that Tohru's face went back to its customary goofy grin. Laughed and thanked him, then squirmed back to her friends. Kyo left, his hand still scratching the back of his head._

_Tohru signed everyone up for the class, her smile brighter than it had been before._

_**End flashback**_

Arisa grumbled into the plastic of her desktop. Her tummy answered. She felt the extreme urge to kick something. To bad Orangey was all the way across the room, talking to one of his new friends, the ones she teased him of ditching them for. Arisa knew that Kyo wouldn't ever stay away from Tohru, but that didn't mean she couldn't tease him to death.

Another tummy grumble repeated the first tummy growl's question, "When are you going to feed me!?!?" Arisa snarled at her stomach. A sudden spurt of fatigue hit her and she wrapped her arms around her already desk placed head. She knew she should work on her short story, but she was in no mood. It had been a crummy day and she was only in first period.

Her head snapped up, causing a slight kink to form in her neck. She swore under her breath and looked up more slowly. The bell rang. It was like reflex. Right went the bell was about to ring, Arisa's head jerked up. She was like an early warning system. Once her head was up, you knew the class was about to end. Arisa was in bliss for a few moments, savoring the thought of freedom from creative prison, then her spirits crashed, hit rock bottom, when she remembered. Her head flew instantly back to her arms, a makeshift pillow. "_Must sleep through remaining hour and a half of creative torture!" _She thought.

A semi-loud crash brought her back to reality. Grumbling, she looked up, ready to punch anyone. Especially the person who made the noise. It was Tohru, dropping her book bag. It seemed like she wouldn't get to beat up the person who woke her up. She would never hit Tohru. Not on her life. But if Orangey was nearby… well that was a different story.

After Tohru's little problem with her next class, Ms. Johnson stood up with her plastic cauldron. Arisa sighed. She was way to old for candy, Halloween, and what ever else was in the fake cauldron. Her head hit her arms and she tried to sleep, all to no avail, for Ms. Johnson's booming voice carried over to her and she couldn't concentrate on sleeping.

When the done, as in kaput, Ms. Johnson passed out all of the slips of paper. The minute Ms. Johnson reached Arisa she flicked her on the top of the head. Arisa's head immediately shot up.

"Wha? I was so listening. I was so listening it's not even funny." She looked at Ms. Johnson. "Oh, I guess that you want me to take my slip of paper, huh."

She scooped out a single piece of white paper and put her head back in her arms, in an attempt to catch up on sleep. The next twenty minutes were bliss. But they didn't last.

Ms. Johnson grabbed piece of paper and scrawled a note, then she crumbled it into a ball and chucked it at Arisa's head. Arisa sat up, blearily rubbing her eyes with her fingers. She looked at Ms. Johnson as she mouthed "read it."

Arisa picked up the crumpled ball and unwrinkled it. The writing was hard to make out to all the wrinkles on the page. Arisa smoothed the paper, angrily, and read: "_ARISA!! Write a poem or something then I give you permission to sleep. Okay?"_

Arisa squinted, her eyes still trying to get used to the light. She was still as mad as ever, in fact even more. Orangey was a lifetime away, a whole four seats down, and she was too lazy to get up and kick his desk. He shouldn't have sat way in the back corner. She needed him to kick.

An eraser chunk hit the back of her head and she turned around. Ms. Johnson looked pointedly at Arisa's pencil and mimed writing. Arisa growled. **(A/N: sorry if she doesn't seem mad to you… she is supposed to be… but it is Halloween. How can one not be happy on Halloween!! Candy!!! Woot woot!! I don't get why people don't pass out Orange Juice though… Frozen mostly…)**

Arisa clenched her fists, her nails biting into the skin in her left hand. Why her nails were causing no indentations on her right hand, was a mystery which she would soon solve. She raised her hand up to her eyes and slowly opened it. It was hard, seeing as how it had been clenched for the last twenty minutes, but after hearing about a million knuckles crack, she managed to straighten her crooked fingers. Inside was the scrap of paper, mutated into two pieces by her fingernails. The writing was illegible.

Crossly, Arisa stood up, kicking her desk in the process, and huffed her way over to Ms. Johnson. Upon reaching the teacher's desk, Arisa stated the statement she had made the long trek over there for.

"Um, Ms. Johnson." Arisa said irritably. "I accidentally ripped my paper so I am gonna do my own subject. Kay?"

And with that she turned on her heel and slouched back to her seat, kicking every chair in her path, much to the annoyance of the owners of said chairs.

Arisa crashed down into her chair and picked up her pencil. She chicken scratched her emotion of choice and a few lines about it. That finished, she waved the finished work Ms. Johnson's direction and made wild pointing motions to her paper. Ms. Johnson nodded in a "I can see that you are finished now put that down before you distract your classmates." Way. Arisa followed her usual technique for surviving Creative writing. It was an age old Yankee technique passed down from one leader to the gang members: she fell asleep, coat over head.

She felt like slaughtering the darn timer the moment it went off. Tohru was asked to turn it off and went on to present. Arisa was puzzled although it may have been from just waking up. Tohru seemed to be emotionally touched by her piece and it seemed to have had a large impact on her. Orangey seemed to know about it too, but Arisa was completely in the dark about Tohru's piece. It was only when Tohru began to cry that she knew one thing for sure. Tohru needed help and comfort and she, Arisa Uotoni would gallantly arise out of her seat to comfort a friend in need.

Unfortunately, Orangey beat her to the punch. He was up on his feet, over to the tissue box and back to Tohru before Arisa had even gotten over to Tohru's desk after Ms. Johnson led her off the spotlight that was the front of the room.

Arisa elbowed her way past Kyo, unbeknownst to her, putting him in great risk of poofing. Hana was at her heels. Ms. Johnson meandered back to her desk and called upon Kyo to present.

Arisa watched in fascinations as the once unmovable Kyo, shook in his seat. Her arm still around Tohru, Arisa listened to Kyo's poem in fascination. She also took into account what it did to him.

While he had started off on a low, monotone, almost bored tone, Arisa noticed a change in Kyo. As the poem went on, he started to shake. He leaned further and further back on the stool, leaning on the whiteboard. His posture became slouched as his shoulders rose, as if protecting himself from an oncoming hurt. The ones described in his poem. It looked as though Kyo would like nothing more than to curl up in a ball and escape. But he didn't. When he finished he squared his shoulders and shakily made his way out of the front of the room, over to where Tohru was sitting, still puffy eyed.

Ms. Johnson called on Arisa to go next. **(A/N: I know this sounds mean and unfeeling to take Arisa from Tohru, but I have to have Arisa go!! This whole chapter has been about her!) **Kyo immediately took Arisa's vacant seat and grabbed Tohru's hand, a sign of comfort. Tohru sniffed and squeezed Kyo's hand.

Arisa tromped up to the front of the stage.

"Um, Okay. This is awkward." She said to the class. "I kinda mutilated my paper so I picked my own topic. I was mad cuz I had to wake up at the time. So I did my topic on hate. And after Orangey, I mean Kyo, did his poem, I feel kinda bad for doing this. But here I go. It is a monologue… It kinda doesn't make sense anymore since everyone moved around."

Arisa uncrumpled the paper in her hand and began looking it over.

"Hold on." She held up one finger. "Just gotta memorize it real quick."

She looked over it for a minute longer then re-crumpled it and threw it on the ground by the overhead. She ignored the comfy looking stool by the whiteboard. Already two people had cried or almost cried in it. She didn't need that. Not that she planned on crying. Her piece wasn't like that.

She took a deep breath and began.

"Yeah, Hate. It's easy enough. See that kid sitting in the corner?" she said, motioning to the empty seat in the corner. "Yes, YOU!" she said with vigor. Then she shook her head, as if disgusted with someone's intelligence.

"No! Not _you. _You. The kid in the back left corner, your fine. The kid sitting in the back _right _corner." She gestured to Kyo's empty seat. It seemed to be screaming "HAHA!! I ruined your monologue cuz there's no one sitting in me!"

"You. You and your orange hair. Change it back to normal." This was met by a "Hey!!" From Kyo.

"You're so cocky. Running around and showing off to your new friends. Leaving us in a ditch. Your theme song? It's well known. Ya just switched a few words. Broke our hearts. One in particular

_Make new Friends_

_And ditch the old_

_One is Silver_

_And the other's Mold_

_Our Circle's not round_

_It's come to its end_

_Now it's time for me to ditch my friends._

"Yeah, hate. It's easy enough. Some may use a dictionary to spell and define it. But for me, you spell it and define it with three little letters.

"K-Y-O."

Arisa picked up her gaze from its spot on the floor. She laughed. The look on Kyo's face was priceless. So was Tohru's.

Oo0oO

**A/N: SOOOOO!!! There it is! Sorry I took so long. I wrote this on Halloween and I completely forgot to post it… So forgive me!!! I think my next chapter will be Yuki's… or Sana's… I think that will be how it is… I am off to listen to Phantom of the Opera and work on my next chapter. And the next chapter of "Kyo's New Obsession."**


	4. Yuki

**A/N: wow, you guys all seemed to respond to that one quickly!! I didn't even have time to write one in between. Something awful happened today! My mom made OJ out of my last remaining can of Frozen OJ. :Sniff: It was terrible!!!! Luke is breathing cracker breath in my face so maybe if I start writing he will realize that he won't get any attention and crawl off somewhere else. Cracker Breath… Shudder. Bleck.**

**Dedications: ****nalanna of course!! Who else?**

**Disclaimer: sadly, me no Own-y Fruits Basket. I did own a now OJ-y can of non melted OJ, but now it is gone. RIP OJ **

**Oh, and FYI, I don't really like Yuki all that much so I may torture him a little in this chapter… I will try not to be too mean…**

**Oo0oO**

Yuki, being the good little boy he had grown up to be, immediately sat down at his desk the moment he entered the classroom. He pulled out his short story and with out further ado, began proofreading his story. Of course, there weren't many mistakes, seeing as how this was Yuki's paper that we are talking about here. But he compulsively searched for them anyway. He was so absorbed in his work that he didn't hear the announcements reverberate through the small Creative Writing classroom. But he knew what they said anyway, him being student council and all…

His pencil brought him back into reality. _Snap. _His red graphite pencil had decided to break the moment he needed it most. He had misspelled Nystagmus and he hadn't even noticed. How dumb of him. **(A/N: BTW, that is a real word… it means… Spasmodic eye movements caused by the balance organ being affected.) **And his pencil had decided it needed a refresher and a trip to the sharpener was the only thing on its pencil-y mind.

Yuki grunted in degust. It was just his luck. He looked at where he was sitting. He was in the front right corner of the room. Surrounding him were three idiots. They had blindly plopped themselves around Yuki on the first day of school, still gossiping like girls, paying no attention to him. Tohru had come in late the first day so she had been stuck all the way across the room from everyone else. Kyo sat behind Sana, Uotoni to the left of Hanajima in the very back. Their seats were stuck as is.

Yuki began his trek to the pencil sharpener as a crash echoed from the front of the room opposite of him. Tohru's bag had fallen off her desk, in her attempt to clean up, for what ever reason. Ms. Johnson smiled at her asked her a few questions that Yuki couldn't hear due to the pencil sharpener blasting in his ear. He made his way back to his seat after his pencil was freshly sharpened.

He arrived there in time to take out the sheet of paper and a non editing pencil that Ms. Johnson had asked for. He listened quietly as Ms. Johnson hollered out her directions. He scratched his nose in impatience. He just wanted to start then fix his spelling mistake.

Yuki was the last person to be given a slip of paper, so he didn't have time to think about his subject. He was immediately thrown into the world of unpreparedness and he didn't like it one bit. He scowled at his slip of paper. He wished he could throw the hissy fit that Kyo had displayed earlier, but he was above that. Plus, if Kyo did it, no one cared. But everyone would notice if he did it and he would be talking about it over lunch.

"_Left out?" _Yuki thought. _"Some how that fits. How did Ms. Johnson plan it so that I got 'left out?' It's insane I tell you, well, me… but still. I was just thinking about it this morning and here I have to write some odd thing about being left out! WHY!!"_

It was true. That morning Yuki had bee thinking about being left out. As in all morning. He had awoken to laughter and had tromped down the stairs to find the disturbance. He had walked into the kitchen to find Kyo and Tohru downstairs, casually chatting as Kyo helped Tohru make lunch for that day. She would hand him some piece of food and he would package it. They seemed to be having so much fun. That cat was luckier than he knew. He, Yuki, would never stop loving Tohru, even if he told himself that it was just brotherly love. Ayame didn't help by the fact that he would announce to the world how cute a couple Yuki and Tohru made when ever he came around. Then Shigure would calmly state that he thought Kyo and Tohru made a better couple. Then to the teen's immense displeasure, they would state _why _their desired pair was better than the opposition's couple. Ayame was no longer running his shop due to the fact that he was in the hospital due to an overly dramatized broken nose from Kyo. Shigure had gotten out of the hospital recently. He had gone in for shock; a large, Ayame sized hole in his roof was to much to bear.

If there was anything Yuki didn't want to do, it was write anything about being left out. It would be too easy. And he suspected that he would put a little bit too much of himself into it.

"_But it will be easy!" _Yuki countered himself. He shook his head. The last thing he needed was to have a mental war with himself. He was already stressed out enough with the fact that he had student council that day after school. He wasn't looking forward to it. Kimi would be hyper as usual, Machi destructive, Nao strict, and Manabe… Manabish…?

Yuki sighed and looked down at the piece of paper. Yuki, like always, over analyzed the scrap in his had. The "L" was a cursive capital "L" and it was overly loopy. The "f" and the "t" were squashed together into an illegible mess, but still was known to say "Left out." That's just how Ms. Johnson rolled. **(Standing up! Sorry, inside joke!)**

Yuki looked up at the ceiling, thinking to himself.

_"Why am I taking this so hard? This is an easy assignment. I have an easy subject to write about. I have lots of inspiration-slash-personal experience. So why am I resisting writing. I have a time limit, and I've never missed a deadline. I have never got less than a ninety-nine percent on anything, and here I am, going for a fail! Why can't I just suck it up and write. Why am I resisting! WHY!"_

Yuki muttered something incoherent under his breath and tapped the desk with his pencil. He was beating himself up over nothing. He had to write.

He picked up his pencil and subconsciously started writing. He wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote with out even noticing, his eyes still on the ceiling. When he looked down at his paper he crinkled his eyebrows. His paper resembled something like this.

_"blah blah blah. My name is Yuki Sohma. Yuki Sohma. Yuki SOHma. Sohma Yuki. Suki Yohma. Lalala. I so don't know what to write, lalalala. Herm. Skdokjfoa. AAA AA A AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Fluffy fruru haoposydayd. Sojlkjosd_

Needless to say, Yuki was appalled. How could he have written that? He quickly crumpled his paper into a massive paper ball. Aiming for the garbage can, he lobbed the paper ball in, perfect free-throw stance, only sitting down. It was perfect, nothing but garbage bag. He grunted, nonchalant to the brilliant throw he had just made.

_"I'll just grit my teeth and write it. I don't see why it is such a problem for me. It's not like I can't just write it and get it over with. I don't see why I just can't suck up and do it. No one will look more deeply into it. I am making a big deal out of nothing. Plus, I have been writing good poems and stuff lately so maybe I will write something inspiring and then they won't listen to the awkwardness that is my poem. Yeah, that's what I'll do." _Yuki smiled and waved his pencil in victory. A super, awesome, stupendous, grand, breathtaking, splendid, tremendous, remarkable, amazing, awe-inspiring, astounding poem was coming his classmate's way. **(A/N: don't ask me how Yuki's mind works, I have no idea. And right now some little kid, named Buck, is playing DDR really loudly in my ear. The horror!)**

But alas, the super, awesome, stupendous, grand, breathtaking, splendid, tremendous, remarkable, amazing, awe-inspiring, astounding poem was not coming to him. After scratching out his fifth attempt at said poem he scowled at his desk. Ideas were not supposed to be hard to work with. He was supposed to write his dumb poem and get it over with. End of story. But it was not to be so Yuki switched tracks. He decided not to write a poem maybe something else… Like what?

Yuki, being the resilient type, went for something poem-ish. A rant.

_"And maybe, just maybe," _Yuki thought as he began the rant,_ "I can somehow turn my rant into a free verse poem." Yuki glanced up at the timer and cringed. "Maybe not. I'd better get to writing though or I will run out of time!"_

Yuki began furiously scratching away on his paper, loudly, much to the chagrin of his fellow classmates around him. Yuki's pencil was doing what all mechanical pencils do best, squeaking loudly as it traveled across his paper; Yuki was unaware of the problems he was causing his classmates.

Like the rest of his fellow classmates, minus a few "I-did-not-have-a-problem-with-my-emotion" people, Yuki finished just as the time rang. There was no time to transcribe his crummy rant into a more suitable free verse poem.

Tohru clicked off the timer and began. Instantly Yuki was worried. Did Tohru really feel that way? What was it all about? Was she referring to when her mother died? Yuki was stuck in his seat. Tohru was in pain. What should he do? He couldn't give her a hug; that would reveal the curse. What other alternative was there?

Kyo evidently had thought of that other alternative. He had leaped up the moment Tohru had been guided back to her seat, tissues in hand. Even Tohru's best friends were behind him. He handed her a tissue the moment she was within tissue handing range. Kyo was unceremoniously kicked out of his seat by the arrival of Arisa and Hanajima. Kyo was then asked to recite his poem. He did so, grudgingly.

Yuki was shocked by Kyo's poem. Who knew a cat could have so much feeling. And he had never seen Kyo look so vulnerable. He was slunk down on the stool, shaking as if he had just replaced all of his bones with Jell-o and they had been whacked by a spoon. Or in Kyo's case, a chair.

Kyo ambled back to Tohru, agitation still visible on his shaking frame. He took Arisa's recently vacated seat, taking Tohru's hand in the process. Arisa began her monologue. As she got further and further into it, Yuki switched his attention to Kyo. He was enjoying the expressions that played across his face. First it was curiosity. Then it was a "huh?" look followed disbelief and then by the death eye glare. Arisa looked up at him and smiled. She then pointed at Tohru and said "Kyo, I think you're killin' Tohru's hand. Loosen up. Plus, after your poem, mine doesn't make sense anymore."

Kyo looked over at Tohru's face. She was smiling but there was a strained quality to it. He looked down at her hand and saw that he was holding it quite tight. He blushed and let go. A brief flicker of… _something_ crossed Tohru's face but it was gone in an instant. Kyo rose from his seat beside Tohru and made his way back to his desk, all the way across the room. Ms. Johnson smiled as he bashfully made his way back to his seat.

Ms. Johnson went to pick on Hana but quickly changed directions choosing to have Yuki go instead.

"Han- I mean Yuki. Would you mind going next?" she asked.

Yuki was startled. Him? Go? Right out of the blue. He did mind but he didn't say it.

"Sure, no problem!" Yuki slid out of his seat, to lazy to scoot his chair out.

Yuki walked up to the podium. He had the same thoughts as Arisa pass through his mind. He didn't need anything that would make him weak and cry. Chair equals sob city. Not goodie for Yuki.

He put his papers down; they made a soft whoosh. He cleared his throat, signifying that he was ready. This quieted down all of the whispers that were going around the room, making fun of Kyo. No one would ever make fun of Tohru, considering the wrath that would follow any statement made.

"Erm. Ok. I did a rant. It is weird cuz I really didn't want to write this. But I hadta cuz it was for a grade. So here goes.

"_I feel lonely more than ever. I don't have any real friends. A best friend. Some one whose got your back and you theirs. The Best Friend. My family is the closest thing that I have, and they don't count. They're family._

_"People think I have a lot of friends. So maybe that's why I don't. They think I have friends so they leave me alone. They think I'm untouchable._

_"Now, I could work up my courage, walk over and sit by the crowd of people. My would be friends. Sit with them and try to belong._

_"But will I try? No. Any you may think I am not putting forth any effort, but I know what will happen. Me, the Awkward One, with THEM? A match not made in heaven. Either they'll look at me with a funny gaze and change the subject or they'll ignore me completely. Me, the odd kid. Awkward one._

_"I would just sit away from the group, one of the countless lackeys, wanting to be wanted by the group. My head on my knees, I'd wander off into my own little world. Where I understand everything._

_"Not this nonsense they would spout. Slang. I wouldn't understand what they said._

_"I can wander off into my own little fantasy world by myself and I wouldn't look like a fool, attempting to fit in. In the group I would just look dumb. A fool who is unknowledgeable about today's customs and slang._

_"Sometimes I wish I were in on all the inside jokes. When we would see each other in the hall, we'd smile at our own little secret laugh. Everyone would wonder what we were laugh at, was it them? What did they do? But no. I just smile, wondering what they were smiling and laughing at. Was it me? What did I do? I wonder what countless inside joke were they, The Group of Choice, were laughing at._

_"But here I sit, writing this all down, my laments of my social life, listening to them laugh, smiles on every face in the group, a frown on mine. Yet I do nothing to change this. Not knowing what is going to happen to me, the social outcast, yet wishing things were different._

_"So I will strive to be different in a me sort of way. Not anything drastic by slight changes. Changes so I can feel more comfortable with the people around me. People higher up on the Status Quo._

_"My goal, yet I still feel._

_"Left out."_

**Oo0oO**

**I have here by dubbed this week (starting Sunday) National support The Number nineteen week. Let me tell you why.**

**There once was a girl in a chorus class. All the kids in the class were assigned numbers. When taking a quiz, you had a few options of quizzes that you could take. Once one choice of quiz had been used a certain number of times, it was erased and no one else could use it. After you took your test, you picked a number between one and twenty-two. (There were twenty-two kids in the class) The person with that was assigned the number you randomly chose would then pick a quiz.**

**Now be truthful, what is the first number that pops into your head when I say: "pick a number between one and twenty-two. Probably not nineteen huh. So the poor pitiful girl assigned number Nineteen was always the last one picked. She was stuck with the hardest quizzes. Guess who that girl was. You guessed it. Mwa.**

**So!! If some one asks you to pick a number at random, say Nineteen. If you like to answer questions in class, give the other people a chance and only answer question number Nineteen. Or only answer nineteen questions, instead of your regular four million. But don't take a nineteen minute shower… that is too long.**

**Ta!!! Maybe, could we get up to Nineteen reviews? I don't usually set a limit. But think of Nineteen! It will finally be getting the representation it deserves!**


	5. Me Memo

HI!! This is Have Socks. Will Travel.

I am typing up this little memorandum (A big long word meaning "Memo") for one reason.

I am afraid that my laptop decided to go and break down. Maybe it went sky diving or something. It is now in "Big Back Screen of Death" mode. AKA: the battery is charged and everything but the screen/monitor is kaput. Other things may be wrong with it, but all the most obvious thing is the screen. Plus, it makes a better name. "Big Black Screen of Death." Isn't it catchy. And sucky?

It pains me to say that only my dad knows how to fix this and he is currently in Indianapolis, Indiana. He will arrive home in two long weeks And when he gets back from that little adventure he will be home for a grand total of a Day a Half. Then he is shipping himself off (Gags at cheesy Christmas song.) to Austin Texas. It is not his fault. Dumb business trips.

So. My point is that I may not be able to update until after the holidays… AKA the beginning of the New Year… Depending where you are. Anyway, unless my computer decides to miraculously fix its self, I won't be updating very soon… Me sorry. (Gags at yet another cheesy song. What is up with my father and Christmas songs?)

Some of you may be wondering, "If she was able to post this little tidbit, then doesn't that mean that she can log on to Fanfiction? Little liar. You are just lazy."

While it is true that I am lazy, I really can't log on. We have four computers at my house.

1. My kaput Laptop

2. My dad's work computer

3. My sister's Old Clunker (My used-to-be old clunker)

4. My mudders Computer

As stated before, my laptop is Kaput. My father's work computer is actually a laptop and it is with him in Indianapolis. Plus, I will die if I touch that computer. Incidentally, it is the same type of laptop as my school's laptops… Odd fact for you there… My sister's Old Clunker has all of these restrictions on it and it has the capacity to log you on to your email. Me Padre knows how to change it so that it allows you to log onto things but, as stated before (for the millionth time) he is away. In a place with a name that is hard to type, so I will not type it again…

I am, as of now on my mom's computer (listening to Santa Baby by Madonna…) This is like the only time that I am allowed on her computer. She has this curse of breaking electronics (see my Treo, Her Treo, her laptop and my sister's book light for details. My dad doesn't allow her around his stuff… you can see why…) so she is trying to be extra careful with this computer. Plus it is new so she and my dad (parental units… way over protective… of their computers…) don't allow us on this computer. It took an unprecedented amount of begging to allow me to type this shorty memorandum. (hehe. I like that word…)

Therefore, as stated before, I am afraid that I won't be updating for at least a month… Nevertheless, I will continue working on my stories. I will type them on the Clunker then, when my computer is working, send them over to my laptop via email. Thus is my plan. Hopefully it will work. However, if my computer is unfixable, then I may have to get a new computer. On the other hand, maybe I won't. sniff

Believe me, it pains me as well that I cannot update. I enjoy reading your reviews and seeing your smiling faces. At least I imagine that you are smiling. Maybe you are yelling at your computer, extremely mad at me. But I prefer the smiling faces. Pity me, I get to be stuck with relatives (whom I love, but still…) all season long and I won't be able to do something I enjoy… sniffle. Plus, Ya'll (me live in North Carolina. I say ya'll. Wasn't born here but that don't matter. Hey my computer, moms computer excuse me, didn't pick up on the bad grammar. Even my computer can do that!! Hehe!)

But, peoples of this earth, or the ones that read my stories, I can check my email, (due to the presence of Old Clunker. heart) So!! If your want to offer words of comfort, send your condolences, or just yell at me drop me a PM.

Don't kill me!!!

-Your dear Have Socks. Will Travel.

PS. You can still send me Reviews. I can see them by reading my stories. I will send you a reply via PM. My only problem is that I can't log onto Fanfiction. Oh, that and the fact that my computer is on the brink of destruction. Or already there… whatever suit your needs.


	6. Sana

**A/N: I am currently typing on my Old Clunker computer. As many of you know, my laptop has gone kaput. So, I will be typing it all up on The Old Clunker, Emailing it to myself, checking my email at the library, loading it onto a word document than uploading it onto Fanfiction. All for the sake of you guys. That shows how much I love you… Heart**

**I am eating FOJ so I am very happy. For all those who do not know what FOJ is, I will tell you. It is the most delicious item in the world to eat. Frozen Orange Juice. Right out of the can my peoples. Well! Off I go! It's Sana this time… **

**Oo0oO**

Sana Tetsushi, like Tohru Honda, loved her Creative Writing class. It gave her time to voice her opinions. It gave her quiet time, away from her noisy friends. She could act however she wanted and no one would question why.

At the moment, said person was quietly sitting at her desk. Her customary smile was lost from her down turned lips. She was not in a good mood. Her day was going bad and she needed sleep or she was going to drop dead. She knew that she was going to be snapping at everyone that talked to her today. She vowed to get better sleep tonight and she would just not talk to anyone. Her short story was not going well, which was another bummer in her already bummer filled day. She had done it very quickly the night before and she was feeling very insecure. She didn't know if Ms. Johnson would even like it. It was hard to tell with her ever smiling teacher, who always offered advice at the drop of a hat. Sana could never tell if Ms. Johnson actually did like the piece that she had written, and she was sure to not like this imperfect piece. Unbeknownst to her, all her worries were in vain. Everything that looked perfect to an outsider looked all wrong to her. She was a perfectionist and nothing she ever did was just the way that she wanted it. She was her own worst critic.

A dull pencil awoke her from her self criticism. She turned around to see the guilty face of Kyo Sohma. From such close proximity to the source of a pencil thrown so hard, you would think that it would hurt considerably when the pencil whacked into the back of her head. But Sana merely raised an eyebrow and pointed to the pencil of the guilty person behind her. Sana chucked the pencil back at Kyo and returned to spell checking her story, humming the theme song of her favorite TV show.

Sana was still reading her story when the bell signifying the end of class. Out of instinct, Sana very nearly jumped out of her seat. Remembering the announcements that day, however, she managed to remain seated.

She sighed as she turned the last page of her typed story. Her brown hair fluttered into her face and she blew it off with a single puff of disgruntled air. Grabbing her paper, she turned around in her seat and smacked her story down on the desk behind her. Not getting any sort of reaction, she flicked Kyo on the noggin. The orange haired teen jumped at the impact of her finger on his skin.

"Hey, Kyo-kun!" She said, in way of apology. "You wanna have me read over your story? Ya kinda seem to be having a hard time of it yourself. You can read over mine if you want."

"Nah, it'd just make me depressed. I scratched out like half my paper on mistakes only. Mine sucks. Yours is probably good." Kyo said as he handed Sana his green ink covered paper. She immediately started to spell check.

Not surprisingly, the paper was very good. A few spelling mistakes that Kyo hadn't caught were scattered around the paper. Her purple pen worked its magic and soon those were taken care of. Sana was sure that if Kyo actually wanted to work at it, and if this wasn't a short story assignment, they paper of Kyo's would have made a lovely novel. But unfortunately, this was a short story assignment and Kyo wasn't willing to work any harder on his story. Sana wrote ideas for Kyo in the margin of his paper. She wondered if she could ask Kyo if he would mind if she took over his story idea after the assignment was over and turn it into a novel of her creation. It was then that Sana realized that Ms. Johnson was addressing the class. She quickly turned around and yanked her story out from underneath Kyo's elbow while simultaneously slapping down his now corrected paper.

After Ms. Johnson's brief and very easy to follow instructions, Sana eagerly awaited her slip of paper. Her hand plunged into the plastic cauldron with so much vigor that Ms. Johnson almost lost her grip on the plastic of the container.

Sana was in high spirits as she tore open her paper. Those soaring spirits plummeted as she read the words on her slip. Kyo seemed to have the same feeling about his "emotion" when he ripped his paper to shreds then sent it toward the heavens. Remaining true to the law of gravity, a few of the slivers of the paper landed in Sana's hair. She unconsciously rubbed the top of her head, trying to get the papers untangled from her hair, as she blankly looked down at the paper.

_"Um, forgiveness-slash-Sorry?" _Sana thought in her head. _"What kinda emotion is that? Um, not one… that's what. What should I do? Forgiveness? I'm sorry? How is that an emotion? I guess if you are feeling sorry… then it is an emotion. What should I do? I have never really done anything that I am sorry for… what to do… I am a good girl. I don't do anything bad."_

Sana took to doing what it was that she always did when she couldn't think. She drew. Using the colored pencils that were a permanent part of every desk that she owned, she preceded to graffiti the margin of her notebook. Her parents were very surprised when she signed up for Creative Writing class instead of Art. It seemed that her parents had never seen all her notebooks full of poems from when she was littler. Needless to say that they were poems about jelly beans and rainbows, but the poems were still rather good for a seven year old. No, all her parents saw were her doodles on any surface.

She sighed and put down her brown colored pencil. She looked down at the margin of her notebook and raised her eyebrow. In the center of her notebook, on the top margin, was a big brown eye. It reminded her very vaguely of an eye she knew. An eye she knew very well. A little to well for her comfort; she was always trying to catch that perfect brown eye. She suddenly had her poem.

She finished her poem in a few minutes. It hadn't taken her that long. With personal experience leading her hand, she penned her poem with confidence, although her usual nagging self was still going full blast. When she finished her poem, she was not at all sure of it. But she let it slide, she knew she would never get it perfect, and plus, she was in no mood to write a poem on something she rarely needed to feel. She was hardly sorry for anything she did. Not that she was an evil spirit that didn't feel bad for what she did; it was just that she never did anything to make her feel that way. She was a goody-goody toe shoe that was depended on to take care of her wild friends.

Her drawing was rudely interrupted by another something hitting her in the back of her head. She turned around and saw Kyo pointing to a piece of crimpled paper lying on the floor next to her desk. She rolled her eyes. It was just like Kyo to ask for help moments before the timer was going to ring. She knew she shouldn't be snappy with him, so she read his note.

_Help!_

_Subject- Love_

It took Sana a few moments to realize what he was asking. Then she got it. He was asking her for inspiration. Immediately a thought passed through her mind but she pushed that to the back of her mind. She suddenly snorted. It had suddenly registered in her mind.

_"He he! Kyo-kun got… LOVE!! He he. That is funny. Out of all the people to pick love, it had to be the one who is the most embarrassed and uncomfortable around it. I can see why he threw that fit back then."_

She sighed and wrote him back, her handwriting slightly more legible than his untidy scrawl.

_Us personal experience. It works._

_Believe me._

It seemed to her that her forty-five minutes of silence came to an end quicker than it should have. Tohru Honda went up and turned off the timer and proceeded to recite her poem. Sana was amazed to hear all these different emotions protrude from an always smiling girl like Tohru. It was almost like she was a different girl when she was escorted out of the spotlight.

Kyo, who was insensitively kicked into the recently vacated spotlight, murmured his way up to the front of the room. For a boy who had just asked for help minutes before the timer had rung, he did an amazingly good job. Sana thought that she would have follow in Ms. Johnson's footsteps and help her dear friend off the stage. But Kyo managed very well, giving an embarrassed smile as he plopped down next to Tohru and grabbed her hand. Sana's face split into a smile for the first time that class. Those two were just too cute.

Arisa was called up after Kyo. Sana had a lot of fun listening to that one. Everyone snickered as Arisa made fun of Kyo and his face showed his embarrassment. The effect was completed when Arisa pointed out that Kyo was cutting off the circulation in Tohru's hand. Sana heard Kyo grumble as he sat down. She smiled to herself. That was just like Kyo to be embarrassed like that. She turned around and patted him on the head.

"Don't worry. I'm sure Honda-chan would still like you even if you were caused her not to be able to use that hand. Don't sweat it!"

Kyo rolled his eyes and plunked his head down on his arms. His voice was muffled as he said, "You're the last one I want to hear that from. And here I thought you were gonna help me."

Sana chuckled and turned around when she heard Yuki clear his throat. When Yuki started, Sana was very aware of whom he was talking about: Himself. Sana wondered if it was as obvious to the others of the class. Yuki quickly finished his rant. He read it incredibly fast, so she wasn't able to catch every part of it, but she could tell that uncomfortable presenting his poem.

Suddenly Sana heard her name resonating over the air waves in the classroom. Sana knew only to well what that meant: time to share her imperfect poem. She was as ready as she would ever be, and that was never.

Sana hiked up to the front of the room, opting to sit behind the podium. Her smile was a little strained as she began reading her poem. She offered no reason behind the meaning of her poem. She simply started, with a nod from Ms. Johnson.

"_I'm sorry._

"_I'm sorry that I'm not your perfect girl,_

_The one that plays your dumb games,_

_The only girl that doesn't fall for_

_For your cheap tricks_

_To win my heart._

_Win it then break it._

"_I'm so sorry._

"_I'm sorry that I'm not one_

_Of those ditzy girls,_

_Who'd fall head over heels_

_Because of your charm and status,_

_Cuz honey, captain of the team or not,_

_You're not all you think you are._

_Sorry to break it to you._

"_I'm sorry sweetie._

"_I'm sorry your brown eyes_

_Hold no interest in mine,_

_That I don't giggle_

_At every little thing you do._

"_Yeah, I'm sorry._

"_I'm sorry I don't dream of you_

_Every night,_

_Like all those other girls,_

_That you notice every _

_Little thing I do,_

_And I notice nothing of you._

"_So there are a lot of things _

_That I am sorry for._

"_Some day I will say them to your face,_

_But the sorry I will never say is:_

"_Sorry bud._

_I'm so sorry._

_I'm sorry this poem is all a lie._

**Oo0oO**

**A/N: Well, that is my beautiful poem for Sana. I had always wanted to try writing one of those…**

**Let me explain what the ending meant for me. I had my sister, my mom, and one of my best friends read this poem and they all took it a different way.**

**It is implying all the way through the poem that she has no interest in him and she pays no attention to him. But at the very end the: **_ I'm sorry this poem is all a lie _**thing. That means, in a nutshell, that everything she is saying she is doing to him, is actually what he is doing to her. So it means that she actually likes him and she was lying in the poem. He is completely ignoring her and she desperately wants him to notice her. It also means that she is falling for his charm. Basically, all the things she said she wasn't falling for, in all reality, she is…**

**I would also like to add that I typed this in one sitting. I am extremely proud of myself! I never do that. So now I am off to go plan my new story. It is a Prince of Tennis story that my sister and I are writing. I am really excited about it!!!**

**There is only one more chapter in this story. That kinda makes me sad… I had so much fun writing this! I will post this when I get to school! Off to my email to send it to myself!**

**TA!!**

**The purple button is getting more friends. Do you want to join the "Purple Button Presser" crew? All it takes is a press of the button. It's that easy! **


	7. Hana

**A/N: HI!! This is me again! This is the last chapter in this story. sniff It is Hanajima. I was going to eat FOJ in celebration of this occasion, but, the horror, we have none. So I sent my mom on an emergency FOJ run… I told her to come back with a billion cans of FOJ. She says she can't promise that many, but me and her worked out a deal for one million. She says a billion can't fit in the back of her car… **

**As you may have noticed, I have renamed this Fic "Trapped in the Three hour Creative Writing Class" as it seems most of out hero's seem to think of it that way… Plus, its original title was a mouthful…**

**I am so proud of myself!!! I was sleeping over at my friend's house last night. When I woke up this morning I went downstairs to have breakfast (yummy) and I almost got all the way down the stairs with out tripping. I got down to the second to last stair then I slipped on my socks (which were on my feet…) and I kinda skied down the rest of the stairs. But I got down to the second to last stair!!! YAY!**

**Well, this is Hanajima. It is going to be fun to write hers, but it will also be hard. Hana is Hana and no one knows how Hana's mind works. Thus my need for FOJ. I seem to write better with FOJ… Ah, well.**

**PS. I am IMing my friend Laura at the same time I am writing this, so sorry if it seems choppy…**

**Oo0oO**

Saki Hanajima was a mystery to everyone who was around her. She was continually doing strange things. Whether it was staring of into space, randomly coming up to you and picking a minuscule amount of lint off you, or unexpectedly wearing something not black, she was always participating in the abnormal. Now was one of those times.

Hanajima was sitting to one of her best friends Arisa, but she was paying no heed to the cranky blonde beside her. She was concentrating very hard on the task at hand. While the other people of her class waded through the grueling task of spell checking their papers that were due the next day, Hanajima was doing one of those strange things. She was actually working on the assignment she was given. But it wasn't the fact that she was actually working on the assignment that was the outlandish thing going on. In fact, to the public eye, Saki just appeared to be staring with utmost deliberation and focus at the pencil on her desk.

However, what she was doing made one hundred percent to Hana. She was sure if she just concentrated hard enough, the pencil would write the paper by it's self. If not that than it should at least be able float. So far the pencil was just lazily rolled around on her untouched lined paper that she had borrowed from Arisa. But the rolling wasn't due to some super mind powers on Hana's part. It was thanks to Hana jumping when Tohru dropped her bag on the floor. Hana, who was not surprised in the slightest when Tohru dropped her bag, had happened to jump at the same time as the rest of the class because she thought she seen her pencil move.

Suddenly, as if she was electrocuted, Hana stood up and marched purposefully to the teacher's messy desk. She looked Ms. Johnson straight in the eyes and said in her monotone voice, "Use the plastic cauldron that you usually put candy in for Halloween. It should fit all the papers with lots of room. Believe me. It will work."

Ms. Johnson looked up from the pile of papers on her desk. She was confused for a moment, and then a look of realization dawned on her face. "Thank you Ms. Hanajima. That would work perfectly."

Ms. Johnson gathered the scraps of paper on her desk then went to the cabinet behind her. She unlocked it and took out the small plastic candy holder. Hana nodded her head as Ms. Johnson slid the papers into the cauldron. Ms. Johnson turned to praise Hana once again for the idea to use the cauldron, an item Ms. Johnson had forgotten she had, and some how Hana had know. But when she turned, Hana was not where she was not to be seen. Actually, she was to be seen, only in a different place than the last time Ms. Johnson had seen her. While Ms. Johnson was sure Hana had been behind her to see her take out the cauldron, Ms. Johnson wasn't sure how Hanajima was able to get all the way back to her desk, which was all the way across the room, in the short time it took to dump some papers into a wide mouthed bowl. But there she was. She was back to staring intently at her red and green pencil with the same burning gaze she had been giving it earlier. Ms. Johnson shook her head and started giving her instructions, and told herself that this was just how class was going to be if Hanajima was here.

Hana didn't listen to the instructions. She didn't need to. When Ms. Johnson asked them to pull out a blank sheet of paper, Hana reached into her book bag and pulled out a thick notebook full of blank paper. Well, it was all blank except the last page. There, in Hana's spidery handwriting, was the poem she was going to present. Arisa looked over at Hana and scoffed.

"Why did you ask to borrow paper from me when you had a whole thick pack in your bag?" She asked, turning her head to face the other side of the room, and out the window.

Hana did not reply but merely ripped out the written on paper and folded it up.

Ms. Johnson, who had been going up and down the rows with her cauldron of paper, stopped in front of Hana and held out the container. Hana reached into the mouth of the black cauldron and picked out her emotion. She read it, picked up her pencil, unfolded her paper, and added a few lines to the bottom of what she had already written.

Then she turned her concentration back to her pencil. Hana concentrated on her pencil for the rest of the forty-five minute thinking time. Her attention did not waver from her pencil the whole time. Not even when Ms. Johnson missed and hit Hana on the back of the head, instead of Arisa, her original target. Not even when Arisa wildly flapped her paper back and forth to signify to Ms. Johnson that she was done with her work did Hana move.

Hana was sure that she had finally made her pencil float, when the timer rang. She let out a puff of air. She had been holding her breath and concentrating so hard that she was red in the face. However, when Tohru came up to present, Hana stopped all pencil-mind moving stunts. It was time for her to take a break anyway. Moving a pencil with your mind was harder than it looked.

Tohru's waves instantly changed the moment she started her poem. Hana had no idea what she was crying about, but her waves gave her a clue. They were the same waves that Tohru had the day her mother died. Tohru must have been writing about that day. Hana was disappointed that Tohru hadn't told her about this. And to show her concern, the moment Ms. Johnson led Tohru off the stage, Hana leaped to her feet and nearly teleported to where Tohru was. Evidently, Kyo had teleported, because he was already handing a sobbing Tohru a tissue as she arrived. Using her super-sonic waves and Arisa using her death glare, Kyo was unceremoniously kicked out of his seat and into the front of the room.

Hana was disturbed by Kyo's poem. Although Kyo did have a temper, who could have ever done this to him? Even though Kyo's poem never said anything about him being the boy of the poem, Hana was painfully aware that it was him. Her suspicions were confirmed when Kyo pulled back his bangs and exposed a scar of abuse.

Somehow, although she was still comforting Tohru, Arisa was called on to recite her poem. Her seat was taken by Kyo, who grabbed Tohru's hand instinctively. Hana smiled in her mind as Arisa began. Kyo was an open book and Tohru appeared to not be able to read.

Arisa's waves were not at all into her written monologue. They betrayed her cool "I hate Kyo Sohma" attitude by showing some concern in the poem just shared. Evidently Arisa shared the same feelings as Hana when it came to what happened to Kyo. She too had seen the scar and made the connection.

A shaking Yuki went up next. Hana wasn't really in the mood to go up yet. Ms. Johnson had almost called on Hana to go after Arisa, but a quick "Not Me Ms. Johnson" vibe fixed that little problem.

Yuki's insecurities were wide open and there for all present waves to see. Hana was aware, however, that, other than Tohru, the girl with short brown hair (Sana) and her self, no one else had a clue who Yuki was talking about. His problems were his own and she wasn't going to say anything to the others in the class. Hana looked down at the pencil on the next desk over. Slowly it rose up into the air, hovering a few inches above the desk. Hana looked away but the pencil stayed hovering over the desk. With a thought from her mind, the pencil started to spin. The annoying boy who sat at that desk suddenly realized what was happening to his pencil and looked around. When he saw that Hana wasn't even looking his way he started to sweat. What was happening to him?

He started lurching around trying to catch his pencil, but it was all in vain. With her mind, the pencil was moved just out of reach each time. The boy was unable to make mad grabs for his pencil due to the fact that he didn't want to draw attention to himself. So he was left with making one handed smacks on the table. However wherever his hand came down, the pencil scooted out of reach just in time.

Yuki was soon finished with his rant. He blushed at Tohru's knowing stare. He wandered over to his seat in the front of his room. Hana stood up as Ms. Johnson called out "Kenji." Everyone was startled at the sudden rising of Saki Hanajima.

"I wish to go next, if you allow it, Ms. Johnson." Hana said to no one in particular, not even Ms. Johnson. When Ms. Johnson nodded, Hana stood up and headed to the back of the classroom. Everyone followed her strange movement. Wasn't she supposed to go to the _front _of the room, not the back? When Hana arrived at her desk, which was her destination, she grabbed the blank papers she had borrowed from Arisa. She put them back on Arisa's desk.

"There is the paper that I borrowed, Arisa. I am done with it now."

Arisa cringed in confusion. "What was the point in even borrowing the paper if you didn't even use it?"

That little detail made sense to Hana. If you borrowed something, you need to return it in the same condition that you got it in. Since she was just borrowing Arisa's blank paper, she had to return Arisa's paper blank. It was just good manners. When Arisa asked her about this later Hana would reply with the same answer and Arisa would just stand there confused. You borrowed paper to use it. It was just common sense.

Hana turned right back around and headed for the front of the classroom. She placed herself behind the wood-topped podium that Arisa liked to lean on. From the folds of her skirt, she pulled a piece of lined paper. The class took a collective gasp. Hana never ever wrote her poems down. She would just stand up and recite any poem off the top of her head. So it came as great surprise when Hana actually began reading her poem off the slightly discolored paper.

"_The first bite of that luscious chocolate cake,_

_Licking the spoon,_

_And smelling_

_The aroma of brownies filling the air._

"_Chicken, tender and moist,_

_In a coat of bread crumbs,_

_Sliding off the bone in a single juicy piece._

"_The crispity crunchiness of potato chips,_

_The slight taste of cheddar_

_Sending your taste buds into a frenzy._

"_The bubbling soup, simmering on the stovetop,_

_The beef stuck in clumps,_

_But when it reaches your mouth_

_It melts into meaty goodness_

"_Cheese dripping off the side_

_Of a piece of flat bread,_

_Tomato sauce makes_

_The pepperonis that much more savory._

"_The juicy chicken broth_

_Of ramen noodles_

_Attacks your taste buds,_

_And it wins_

_In a short fought battle,_

_The taste buds surrender_

_The chicken taste of broth_

_And slippery noodles._

_Food speaks for it's self._

_What is happiness?_

_My family._

_Oh, and Arisa, can I borrow a piece of paper?"_

The class looked up at Hana in confusion. What, they asked themselves, was that. Hana stood calmly at the podium, rapping her knuckles against it very lightly. She stared straight at Ms. Johnson.

"Is something wrong Ms. Johnson? Your waves say that you are rather confused. Do tell." Hana asked, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Ms. Johnson heaved a sigh and leaned forward in her chair. "If you don't mind me asking, what emotion did you pull out of the cauldron? I don't remember putting 'food' in the bucket."

"I got 'happiness.'" Hana answered, back to her usual monotone voice.

Ms. Johnson squeezed her top lip, as if squeezing it off would help her concentrate and understand. "So food is happiness to you?"

Hana shook her head. "No. My family. Food makes me happy. Family is happiness."

The look of confusion that crossed Ms. Johnson's face was priceless. It was a cross between hopelessness and "Who is this child." Ms. Johnson sighed and took one more stab at receiving a sane answer. "Then why did you write a poem about food."

From across the room the question was answered.

"Ah, Ms. Johnson," Kyo said. "Just give it up. If Hanajima wants to write a poem about food, she'll write a poem about food."

**Oo0oO**

**A/N: And, that, my friends, is how we will end this story. It was a ton of fun writing this. I got to write a lot of different types of poems that I usually wouldn't write. It was a super blast. I am glad that you guys enjoyed it too. At least I hope you did.**

**If you were confused during this chapter, don't worry, I was too. If you weren't, you are smarter than I. And I am smart. But I am blonde… That may be it. The first time I took the blonde test (see below) I got it wrong and I didn't understand how it worked… I finally figured it out in fifth grade. That was three grades later… Ah, well.**

**I would also like to thank the inanimate object Hippo (a stuffed animal) for providing me tons of entertainment. Whenever I had writers block him and me dance around to the song "Bubbly" while I thought. I have 'probly listened to Bubbly and danced with Hippo dance around like a million times today. Yes, his name is Hippo. Get over it. JK. He came from Mexico and it was really late when I got him, so I was in no mood to name him. The name Hippo stuck… Coincidently, Hippo, although sold in Mexico as a popular toy there, was made in China. I found that weird, but now that I think about it, everything is made in China!**

**Blonde test.**

**This is a verbal test. I bet all of you guys have taken this via your friends. I don't think it is an official test… I hope not, or else I failed…**

**Blonde Test.**

**This test was given to me by a friend named Taylor. Here goes**

_**Taylor: Do you want to take the Blonde Test?**_

_**Me: Sure!**_

_**Taylor: Okay, what's your name?**_

_**Me: Have Socks. Will Travel.**_

_**Taylor: Where do you live?**_

_**Me: In the middle of somewhere.**_

_**Taylor: What's the color of the sky?**_

_**Me: Huh? Blue of course.**_

_**Taylor: What was the first question I asked you?**_

_**Me: What's my name?**_

_**Taylor: Nope, You're a blonde. The first question I asked was: Do you want to take the blonde test.**_

_**Me: Huh?**_

**Even after she explained how it worked, I was still confused. I was so sure the first question she asked me was "what is your name." I was very confused. Now I am not. As stated before, I finally figured it out in fifth grade**

**Well! Ta Ta for now. If I ever have any inspiration, maybe I will post another chapter, but for now, I think this Fic is now officially finished. Thank you to all those that supported it. Now I need to put as much effort into Kyo's New Obsession… I don't know if I will because me and my sister (Crab Hole Cripple) are going to start working on a story together that I am really excited about! We are going to pre write it, so it will 'probly be out around March, at the soonest… **

**Well! Love you, my loyal reviewers! Thank you nalanna for letting me dedicate this to her! Check out some of her work! I absolutely love it!**

**Hey, and also, if you are reading this even a million years after this last chapter was published, please drop me a review to tell me that the old timer's work is appreciated! Really, drop me a review even if it has been a long time and this story is finished!**

**Love Ya'll! I will love you even more if you press the purpley button at the bottom of the page. Or it is blue, as someone pointed out… It is debatable…**

**TA!**


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